


He Left The Door Open

by AkariFields1008



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 05:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19166551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkariFields1008/pseuds/AkariFields1008
Summary: "She woke in the middle of the night, went downstairs and discovered that her front door was standing wide open."One Shot from a writing prompt





	He Left The Door Open

She woke in the middle of the night, went downstairs and discovered that her front door was standing wide open.

On the couch sat a man she had seen many times before but wasn’t particularly happy to see at the moment. She shut the door and stood before the man, her brow furrowed and her arms crossed. She said nothing. After a few minutes of silence, the man looked up at her, as though he was  _just_  discovering her presence.

“Hey, Beth,” he slurred. “What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“I  _was_  asleep, Percy. You woke me up when you stumbled in,” she deadpanned impatiently.

“Oh, yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”

“And you left the door open.  _Again_. Who  _raised_ you?”

Percy sat up a little. “Sally Jackson Blofis raised me and  _hey_ , it’s not her fault not everything stuck,” he shrugged.

“Ridiculous. You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

“Hang on a second, you  _jus_ t got up?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, what about it?”

“ _Fuck_ , you’re  _hot_ , Beth.”

She felt her ears tinge with pink. He was  _wasted_. He always flirted with her after he’d had a few drinks, But the drunker he got, the more frequent (and less clever) the advances got.

She sighed. “Thank you, Percy.”

Instead of saying anything, he just stared at her. At her  _lips_.  _Goddamn it, Percy_ , she thought, feeling a familiar twinge in the bottom of her stomach. Her eyes rolled so hard she thought they’d never return to their normal position.

“I mean it, Beth,” he said getting up from his awkward position on the couch. He walked to her, cupping her face in his hands, but moving no further. “Annabeth, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

“Percy-” was all she managed to squeak out, frozen in place as her best friend of 10 years held her. Slowly, hesitantly, he started to pull her face to his. They were milliseconds from a kiss.

“Percy, don’t.” She put a hand on his chest to stop him, but she felt that he’d already stopped. She could smell the sickly sweet scent of the alcohol he’d consumed. 

His eyes turned sad, his hands moved from her face to her waist. She felt her face flush a little at the contact.

“Don’t you want this, Wise Girl?” 

“Of course I do, but not like this. You’re drunk-”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted.

“ _I_ do. When you’re drunk, you don’t think straight. That’s why it’s the only time you want me too.” The last words felt like venom coming out of her mouth.

His eyes wouldn’t meet hers any longer. She didn’t know what else to do but continue.

“Seaweed Brain, you don’t want me when you’re coherent. And it’s not fair to play with my feelings when you’re drunk. Or to make me think you want me too when all you really want if a bang and I happen to be the closest available outlet. I want to be  _more_ than an outlet, Percy.”

He didn’t say anything. It felt to both of them like an eternity had passed before either of them moved or either of them said anything.

Percy let go of her, sitting back down on the couch. He rested his elbows on his knees, one arm dangling down, the other holding his forehead, his eyes focused intensely on the floor. She sat down too, trying to maintain a comfortable distance from him. A  _safe_ distance.

“You’re wrong.” The words fell from his mouth and hung in the air, surrounding Annabeth. It played over in her head. It wasn’t often she heard those words spoken about  _her_.

“I’m-” She was flustered. This was new territory. “ _What_?”

“You’re wrong,” he repeated. “About me.” His words came out normally. He didn’t sound drunk, he didn’t slur. 

“What do you me-”

“I’m in love with you, Annabeth.”

She was speechless, another rare occurrence. Here sat this man, his brain muddled with alcohol, with whom she’d quietly been in love for 10 years, telling her he loves her. She was so confused. She didn’t know what to do or say and she  _hated_ that. How dare he steal away her upper hand? How dare he cause her this anxiety?  _How dare he be in love with her but not say a word?_

“No, you’re not.” 

The words came out of her mouth without her permission. They were sad, hopeless, and honest.

“What- Annabeth- I-” he stumbled. He took an annoyed breath. “I  _am_ -”

“Percy, it’s like I said before. You’re drunk and you want somebody to shack up with, but I’m not that ‘somebody’, okay? No matter how much I’ve thought about it, I’m not.”

A moment passed where nothing more was said. Another moment. And another.

“So, you’ve thought about it, huh?” he said, finally looking up at her again. His eyes looked a little mischievous.  _Almost_. She could see it was a mask to save them both from the awkwardness.

She let herself chuckle. It was less out of amusement and more out of relief from the possibilities of the previous topic. “I suppose I may have a few times.”

He smiled and leaned back into the couch, shutting his eyes. “Good, that’s good,” he said, his voice sounding, what,  _nervous_? She didn’t have much time to contemplate his tone as he was readjusting his position on the couch so he was sideways, his legs hanging over the armrest and his head in her lap.

Her face turned a bright red and she could feel herself tense up a little. She silently thought a word of thanks to any deity that might be out there, his eyes were still closed.

She wasn’t sure what to do. There was a goofy little smile on his face for a minute before it dissolved into something more neutral. This was accompanied a few minutes later by quiet, breathy snores. If she was unsure of what to do before, she was completely lost now.

He was asleep on her lap. Her hand, moving of its own free will, moved slowly to the black hair that always settled messily, but perfectly on his head. She brushed his hair from his face. He mumbled a little but didn’t wake. She ran her fingers through his hair, finding it surprisingly soft. When he still didn’t stir, she gave herself permission to continue. 

A little noise escaped his lips. He shifted a little. She watched, smiling a little. He was adorable when he slept. Another small noise came when he got comfortable. Another a few minutes later. Her thoughts of how cute he was were soon interrupted by Percy making another noise; a slightly louder, breathy  _moan_. He moaned again and mumbled. The next moan to escape his lips was  _her name_. 

Before she could react in any way, he jumped awake, his eyes flying open. He readjusted so he was sitting normally on the couch, leaning into the back of it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his eyes and then his temples. “Dream.”

She was  _positive_  her face was redder than a fire engine. 

“We should probably go to bed - sleep, I mean,” she managed, standing up awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah,” he agreed, standing as well. As she glanced at him, it became obvious that his dream had affected him in a way that made her blush harder, which she didn’t think was possible. She spun on her heel quickly, trying to escape everything. She was almost to her bedroom door before he caught her arm.

“Percy, I don’t want to talk ab-” the rest of her sentence never stood a chance as his lips met hers. The kiss was rough but filled with an indescribable passion. His lips were softer than she imagined as they moved against hers.

He pulled away, much to the protest of her lips. He pressed his forehead to hers in an unexpectedly tender moment. “You’re wrong,” he whispered before pulling away, disappearing into his own room.

She stood there, feeling a little stupid but mostly shocked. She stared where he’d disappeared. With a smirk, she realized. 

He left the door open.


End file.
